


Getting Old

by WinterTheWriter



Series: Building Happily Ever After [26]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Kinda, inner monologue
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-28 22:27:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10840731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterTheWriter/pseuds/WinterTheWriter
Summary: Bruce really has been the Hulk for an awfully long time.





	Getting Old

**Author's Note:**

> I'M ALIVE!! I promise I'm alive! And to prove it, have a short but definitely real update in the midst of finals week because that's just how much I love you guys (and hate calculus). This semester has been rough, but it's almost over and then I'll be able to end this hiatus and finish this baby up. Four updates left, y'all.

God, he’s starting to get old. 

Bruce glares at his reflection, rubbing the pads of his fingers over the wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks. Years of being, well, him, have finally started to show, he supposes. Hell, half of these wrinkles are probably just from Tony. The other half, of course, being from turning into a…what did he call it? “Giant green rage monster.” 

Yeah.

It’s not that Bruce doesn’t have a relatively good life, because he does. Open lab(s), endless funds for his projects, no rent, the best friends a guy could ask for (and the weirdest), and the privilege of saving the world every once in a while. Really, he shouldn’t complain. But it’s…difficult. People don’t really seem to get that being the Hulk is downright terrifying. He’s barely in control of his own body; his world is tinted green with rage and very, very tiny and all he knows is, well, Hulk Smash. And then, when he’s coming down, the world around him grows ginormous and claustrophobic again, and he’s small and shaking and usually stark-graving naked in front of too many people and flashing cameras. That rage still simmers under his skin for a solid two hours, no matter how much tea he drinks and opera he blasts. 

Doing that, going /through/ that is more than worth it to save lives and make a difference, but that doesn’t make it any easier. Especially over the course of half a decade. 

With a sigh, Bruce cracks his jaw and shakes his head, slowly walking back to his desk and grabbing for his mug. He sips his once-warm tea with a grimace before putting it down and staring around the silence of the lab at 3 in the morning. 

Maybe retirement wouldn’t be too bad.


End file.
